All I Want For Christmas Is You
by symphonies of you
Summary: An entertaining collection of Christmas-themed drabbles featuring our favourite Next Gen characters and multiple pairings. For the Oh Christmas Tree Prompt Collection in the NGF Forum. Drabble no. 12: fred ii.
1. james ii

**For A Christmas Tree Prompt Collection-12 days.**

**Or I might end up doing up to 25 days. You'll have to see. ;)**

**Disclaimer: Don't own. Never have, never will. **

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><p><em>Prompt: <em>gingerbread

_Character:_ **james ii**

_Additional prompts: _possibility, **linger**, tree

-:-

It's Christmas Eve. The sound of the relentless wind howling outside and the glorious sight of whitewhite_white _snowflakes quickly tumbling, quickly encompassing the icy ground are oddly comforting to him. Enticing wafts of baking gingerbread thrust him back into reality as he's lingering by the heavily adorned Christmas tree. He allows a smile to form on his angular face as he observes _her _diligently working in the cluttered kitchen from the brightly lit parlour. His best friend. Alice Longbottom.

She's softly (**tunelessly**) humming a holiday tune, and she's completely oblivious to the fact that he's sneaking up on her. He furtively grabs a handful of flour and hurls it at her surprised face when she swivels around. Her (**beautiful**) green eyes twinkle with mischief and merriment as she snatches an egg and lobs it at his shoulder, inducing splatters of egg yolk all over his woollen sweater. He raises his eyebrows at her feeble retaliation, causing her to beam in return, and it becomes a full-fledged war.

Ten minutes later, they're both wholly encased in ingredients that were laying about the marble countertops. She's giggling madly with flushed cheeks, and he's laughing at their dishevelled appearances. A wild thought drifts into his mind, a thought concerning the unlikely possibility of _kissing _her. He gulps at the very thought; he's never had more than just platonic feelings for Alice. James tries to recover the emotions on his face, but she notices and frowns at the panicked look on his face.

"James, what's wrong? You look like your mum just banned you from eating her blueberry muffins," she asks.

She looks so adorable with her mouth upturned and wide emerald eyes and wild chestnut hair, and so he thinks (**hopes**) it won't hurt to try.

A lopsided grin materialises onto his face as he softly replies in a low (**sexy**) voice, "You've got cinnamon on your lips. Here, let me get it off for you," and leans in for a kiss. It's electrifying, it's tingling, it's _heaven _when she smiles against his lips and begins to kiss him back.

And they're too busy snogging to detect the burning smell of her now-ruined gingerbread.

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><p><strong>AN: Please don't favourite without reviewing! =)**

**-Nic.**


	2. roxannescorpius

**Another chapter for you. :)**

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><p>She's known as Gryffindor's Golden Girl, a devilish (<strong>wild<strong>) trickster, and she's brave till the end. Roxanne Weasley is _unpredictable_. Her seemingly lucid explanations always fool the professors, and she manages to get away with everything. And, of course, her partners in crime are James and Fred, equally frivolous pranksters.

Today, she's on a quest, a quest to engage the mysterious Scorpius Malfoy in a pleasant (**two-sided**) conversation. She's observed him for quite a while now—his movements were so fluid and _perfect_. He's impossibly quiet; it's a wonder that he's best mates with Al, her rambunctious cousin. His manners are impeccable, the professors dote on him despite his heritage, and _she__'__s __captivated __by __him_. Unfortunately, it's a bit difficult to converse with him when her whole extended family is congregating in the Potter Manor, with Scorpius in tow, for Christmas dinner.

He's by the chimney fireplace, quietly staring at a framed photograph of Al, James, and Lily frolicking in their backyard on their brooms sitting on the dusty mantelpiece. His pale face is devoid of any sort of emotion, altogether making him an even more complex jigsaw puzzle she cannot configure. Confusion is infiltrating her mind like tendrils of smoke permeating the air. Why is he always so painfully reserved? Doesn't it hurt _not_ totalk? The only people, that she's perceived, he really talks to is the Potter family and, she reckons, his own parents.

A series of hauntingly beautiful notes suddenly begin to melodiously weave through the air—it's Rose. Watching her gently press the black and white keys of her piano is enchanting enough. But what astounds her even more is the sight of Scorpius with an enthralled look on his (**handsome**) face. His face so rapt and spellbound and _vulnerable_for once in his life, it makes her tremble, tremble that it's not her that he's captivated by but _Rose_.

Her grin fades, and her face crumples at the fact he's directing that look towards her _cousin_. Is this love? Then why is her heart throbbing like it never has before?

Roxanne Weasley was never meant to love, but Scorpius Malfoy has stolen her heart anyways.

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><p><strong>AN: Also, a thank you to my reviewers so far! I love you guys.**

**Please don't favourite without reviewing. =)**

**-Nic. **


	3. roseteddy

**Third chapter. :)**

**A/N: Still don't own. D=**

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><p><em>Prompt: <em>icicles

_Pairing:_ **roseteddy**

_Additional prompts: _ternal, **midnight**, spin

-:-

It's Christmas, and it's snowing at the Potter Manor. He watches her, he (**intently**) watches her take pictures of the delicate icicles dangling from the snow laden limbs of nearby trees. It's nearly midnight, and he hasn't done anything reckless or worth remembering yet. She's broken off an icicle now and is fingering it in her tiny palm, marvelling at the intricate fractures and scratches formed on it.

Before he can stop himself, he blurts out, "Rose, would you like to go for a spin on my broom?"

A little smile materialises onto her pale freckled face as she replies, "Yes, I think I'd like to, Teddy."

She falls into step with him as they walk briskly to the broom shed. He quickly unlatches the door, grabs his broom, and locks the door behind him. He clambers onto the broom and motions for her to get on behind him. A red tinge colours her face as she gingerly swings her leg around and wraps her arms around his waist.

And every cell is erect, tingling, pulsating at her light touch.

They're high, high above the snow-covered rooftops and twinkling lights of the houses below them. He can barely hear the faint sentimental music in the distance, but the only thing his mind can concentrate on is _her_. Her cheek is pressed against his shoulder, and her short breaths are tickling the nape of his neck. He turns his head to see her smiling delightedly at the wondrous sight of everything below them. The biting wind is tousling her hair, making her look like an ethereal (**perfect**) angel with her ivory pale skin and fiery curls. He's suddenly reminded of the icicles that she was oh-so-fascinated by, and he notes the similarity between them and her. Her innocence and fragility, it astounds him.

He wishes that this magical night could last forever, that it could be eternal.

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><p><strong>AN: Ah, I'm no good at writing roseteddy. **

**Please don't favourite without reviewing! =)**

**-Nic.**


	4. lysandervictoire

**Fourth drabble. :)**

**Disclaimer: Alas, I still do not own Harry Potter.**

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><p><em>Main Prompt<em>: mistletoe

_Pairing_: **lysandervictoire**

_Additional prompts_: sky, **crimson**, daft

-:-

The evening sky is laced with crimson streaks, and she's helping her mother embellish the quaint interior of Shell Cottage. She's festooning the doorways with garlands when someone hesitantly taps her exposed shoulder. She jumps about a foot into the air and scowls when she notices it's only Lysander Scamander, who happens to annoy her to no end with his incessant (**pointless**) chatter about nonexistent creatures.

"'Lo, Scamander. What are you doing here?" she demands.

"Your mum invited me over to help with Christmas decorations and such. And I reckon she also needs me to check for Nargles in the mistletoe," he says in an airy voice akin to her younger cousin, Lucy.

She lets out a sigh of impatience and annoyance. She mutters behind clenched teeth, "Go outside and help me wrap these garlands around the pillars."

She marches outside with Lysander slowly shuffling after her. He assists her in reaching the places she can't reach, and she thinks, for the first time, that his company isn't so unpleasant after all. Tingles rush through her arm as it brushes by his, causing Victoire to frown. Why would she feel like this around _Lysander Scamander _of all people? She's meant to be with Teddy, who's supposed to be here any second; they've known each other since forever.

She's distracted from her perturbing thoughts when he dreamily points out, "I think there's a Nargle in the mistletoe above us. Shall I get rid of it?"

Victoire screams because she's stuck under the mistletoe with Scamander, and _he's not Teddy_.

"ARE YOU MAD? YOU DO KNOW WHAT MEANS TO BE STUCK UNDER THE MISTLETOE WITH SOMEONE OF THE OPPOSITE GENDER? WE HAVE TO KISS, YOU DAFT IDIOT," she irately shouts at his bewildered face.

He pouts at her rage, and he gently presses his lips to hers.

And it's not as horrible as she imagined it would be.

(Not that she's ever thought about kissing him.)

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><p><strong>AN: Another thankyou to my lovely reviewers.**

**Please don't favourite without reviewing! =)**

**-Nic.**


	5. lily ii

**Fifth drabble. :)**

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

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><p><em>Main Prompt<em>: carols

_Character_:** lily ii**

_Additional prompts_: grass, **forgive**, doomed

-:-

A mosaic of carols being sung by the villagers is echoing all around her, paining her ears with the horrible sentiment. She's always _hated _Christmas because everyone was always so…_joyful_. She casts her hazel eyes down to the snow encompassed ground where there used to be a field of swaying tall grasses. This is where she last saw Lor before he died in a car accident, last had a heated argument with him. Her teeth clench when she recollects her last harsh words to him.

"_How could you? I never want to see your horrid face ever again, you bloody foul git!" she screamed._

Those words relentlessly taunt her, ring in her fevered mind. She regrets every single word she said that fateful day, she wishes she had the chance to say goodbye to him, to make amends with him. Lily Luna has always been doomed since the day she was born. She is terribly clumsy with her words, and everything always goes spiraling downward for her.

Nothing ever goes right.

She will never forgive herself. Not for this.

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><p><strong>AN: Don't favourite without reviewing! =)**

**-Nic.**


	6. lucyteddy

**Sixth drabble. :)  
>Disclaimer: Don't own.<strong>

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><p><em>Main Prompt: <em>snow

_Pairing: _**lucyteddy**

_Additional prompts: _minute, **threshold**, acting

-:-

Breathing heavily, she's wildly moving her arms and legs back and forth, making a snow angel in the abundant snow. Her chestnut locks are flecked with snowflakes, and her face is a pale white from the cold wind attacking her. And he's next to her, equally happy and laughing at the sight of them. His blue hair is delightfully mussed from frolicking in the snow with her, and he's got a crooked grin playing upon his lips. She suddenly gasps. He has just gently brushed her frozen fingertips with his arm, his electric touch causing unknown feelings to course through her.

This is the minute, the minute everything changes. She knows she has crossed the threshold from friendship to something…_more_. Lucy thinks it might possibly be love but it can't be. It would never work, not when he's got someone as beautiful as her part-Veela cousin Victoire. She doesn't deserve someone as amazing and wonderful as Teddy; he deserves better than her.

So she acts like nothing happened, like nothing has changed. She's always been good at acting. But it still hurts, it still hurts that Teddy wants Victoire and not her.

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><p><strong>AN: Don't favourite without reviewing! =)**

**-Nic.**


	7. mollylorcan

**Seventh drabble. :)**

**Disclaimer: Don't own, of course.**

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><p><em>Main Prompt: <em>ornaments

_Pairing:_ **mollylorcan**

_Additional prompts: _queen, **eyelashes**, ode

-:-

She looks like a regal queen out of a fairytale with her long eyelashes framing her gray eyes and long auburn locks tumbling down her back. They're putting up ornaments on the Christmas tree in the parlour of her mum's house. He sneaks a peek at her; her tongue is poking out of the side of her mouth and her lips are pursed in frustration at not being able to reach a high place.

He stifles a chuckle at her predicament and offers, "Here, let me help you, Molls."

Lorcan takes the star-shaped ornament from her slender fingers and hangs it on a place near the top of the Christmas tree, suppressing the feeling he gets whenever he touches her. He stares at her for a moment, thinking he'd write her an ode if it could get her to fall back in love with him. They once shared more than platonic emotions for each other. But no, now she's irrevocably in love with his twin brother, Lysander. Lysander who always gets everything he's ever wanted and _is_everything he's ever wanted to be.

Life simply isn't fair. It just isn't.

He looks away from her, bitterly mulling over the reason that he's never happy during Christmas holidays.

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><p><strong>AN: Don't favourite without reviewing! =)**

**-Nic.**


	8. rose

**Eighth drabble. :)**

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

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><p><em>Main prompt: <em>north pole

_Character: _**rose**

_Additional prompts: _trepidation, **vague**, catch fire

-:-

"Mummy, how far away is the North Pole?" she innocently questions.

Rose, barely five years old, is sitting cross-legged in front of her mother, who is rather engaged in knitting a woollen sweater in front of the roaring fireplace. Her mother sighs in exasperation.

"I don't know, honey. Probably really far away," she replies, giving a vague answer as she really needs to finish the sweater by the next day.

"Oh. Look out, Mummy! The sweater's about to catch fire," Rose screams with wide brown eyes.

Hermione's placid face turns into one of trepidation as she quickly snatches the unravelling end of the unfinished garment before it becomes singed. She motions with a bob of her head for Rose to direct her incessant chatter towards her father and brother before an actual disaster occurs. The little redheaded girl dashes into the kitchen, and a few moments later she hears an abrupt crash and a holler emanating from it.

Christmas holidays are never normal for the Weasleys.

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><p><strong>AN: Please don't favourite without reviewing! =)**

**-Nic.**


	9. alscorpius

**Ninth drabble. :)  
>Disclaimer: Don't own.<strong>

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><p><em>Main Prompt: <em>snowman

_Pairing: _**albusscorpius**

_Additional prompts: _dragon, **struggle**, beam

-:-

They're building a snowman, a very misshapen one at that. Al stands there with amused emerald eyes glittering with mirth, observing Scor as he struggles to form a perfect sphere of tightly compacted snow for the bottom of the incomplete snowman.

"Oi, you lazy git! Aren't you going to help me at all?" Scor asks.

Al shakes his head and chuckles at the disgruntled expression on his best mate's pale, angular face. Merlin, he loves angering him; it's a talent and accomplishment of his. Finally, after an hour, it's finished and adorned with their wands for arms, a carrot nose, and buttons from, of course, Scor's jumper.

An enraged shriek suddenly pierces the air, and they turn around to see Rose looking like a raging mother dragon whose precious egg has just been stolen. They audibly gulp because an irate Rose is _never _a good thing.

"Scor, I've been looking all over for you, and you're here building a bleeding _snowman _of all things! And it surprisingly appears close to decent," she says at a rather rapid pace.

"Thank you. It's quite explicit, isn't it?" Al declares, beaming and claiming the masterpiece for himself.

"SHUT UP, AL," they both shout simultaneously, glaring at him in the process.

"Oi, Scor. You'd better run soon. She still looks like she's out to kill," he mutters out of the corner of his mouth.

He shrugs and gently takes Rose by the arm, pulling her away from Al, who's still grinning like a madman, while she rambles and scolds Scor for whatever he's done this time.

Love, Al thinks, is quite entertaining when it all boils down to Rose and Scorpius.

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><p><strong>AN: Please don't favourite without reviewing! =)**

**-Nic.**


	10. hugo

**Tenth drabble. :)**

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

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><p><em>Main Prompt: <em>bells

_Character:_ **hugo**

_Additional prompts: _vivacious, **cursed**, morning

-:-

He awakens to the cheerful ringing of bells and his face lights up with a vivacious smile. It is Christmas morning, and he can't wait to open presents. Hugo's always loved Christmas; it's his favourite holiday all year long. The clamour of food preparation in the kitchen, the raucous, pointless arguments between his cousins, and the sound of ripping gift wrapping paper to reveal the present concealed within. He adores it all.

Dashing into his _beloved_sister's bedroom, he happily shouts, "WAKE UP, ROSIE. IT'S CHRISTMAS!"

She groans, causing him to grin at her plight. Rose has never really been a morning person, just like their father, who probably isn't awake either.

"IT'S SEVEN IN THE CURSED MORNING! COME BOTHER ME THREE HOURS LATER PLEASE," she mutters and flops back on the bed with her face buried in the pillow.

He frowns at her lack of excitement on his favourite day of the year and decides to try a new tactic for waking her up.

"Oi, Rosie! Tonks just came back with a letter. It's from _Malfoy_," he speaks with a maniacal glint in his blue eyes.

She immediately sits upright in her bed. "What? Where, Hugo?"

"HA! I tricked the magnificent, clever Rose into waking up. Now come on, we've got to open presents," he declares with a triumphant grin and bursts out laughing at the priceless expression on his sister's face.

He watches her huff as she climbs out of bed, and he drags her down the stairs. His yells and laughter fill the house, waking everyone, including his father, up.

Christmas definitely gets better and better every year.

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><p><strong>AN: Please don't favourite without reviewing! =)**

**-Nic.**


	11. dominiquelysander

**Eleventh drabble, mates. One more coming up soon. :)  
>Disclaimer: Don't own.<strong>

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><p><em>Main Prompt: <em>stockings

_Pairing:_ **dominiquelysander**

_Additional prompts: _vast, **taking chances**, wind

-:-

They're hanging up the stockings above the fireplace, and she's laughing at something he's just said, throwing her head back and making her hair look like fire cascading down her back. Ly sighs. He's hopelessly in love with her, but she's still heartbroken over the abrupt news of Teddy and Victoire's engagement. She doesn't show the turbulence of her emotions (she never does), _but he knows_. The possibility of ever having her love him back the way he loves her is vast and nearly impossible. But his mum always told him that taking chances breathes new life into people; he can't help but want to believe her.

"Hey Dominique? Let's go outside for a while," he says, leading her outside into the snow.

The cold, biting wind plays with her red tumbling locks and his dishevelled dirty blonde fringe. She looks absolutely beautiful, and the thought fills him with bitterness. What's so good about Lupin? Why does she want a taken man and not _him_? Is he not good enough for her?

Something cold and hard hits him—a snowball. He looks behind him and notices her giggling madly at the bemused expression on his face. Oh, she's in for it.

All hell breaks loose as they engage in an intense snowball fight with the rest of her cousins joining them. His thoughts swirl in his mind and disappear for now as he focuses on the happiness in the air instead.

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><p><strong>AN: Thank you to lowi and stars fall at midnight for faithfully reviewing each chapter. ily you guys.**

**Please don't favourite without reviewing! =)**

**-Nic.**


	12. fred ii

**Last drabble, mates. :)**

**JSYK, charity is used in here with the definition: kindness and tolerance in judging others.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own. Never have, never will. Though I'm sure you already knew that. ;)**

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><p><em>Main Prompt: <em>reindeer

_Character: _**fred ii**

_Additional prompts: _charity, **dive**, lost

-:-

He's aroused from his deep slumber by strange noises outside; they seem almost…animal-like. Fred's just had the queerest dream about reindeer. Oh, he _knows _he's a lost nutcase, but he always has the wildest dreams, which is where he _usually_ gains inspiration for his pranks from. And he reckons the professors still dote on him with much charity in their hearts in spite of the multitude of detentions constantly handed out to him. Slowly creeping down the stairs and avoiding the creaky fourth step, he tiptoes to a window in the heavily decorated living room and gasps at what he perceives outside.

It's a _reindeer_, just like the one he was diving after in his dream when it started swimming in the creek behind his house.

Oh sweet mother of Merlin, he's imagining things. He's _definitely _imagining things because he's definitely going _mad_. He pinches his arm to make sure he's dreaming. But he's not, as the reindeer's still there pawing the ground and snorting.

It's rushing toward the frozen creek behind his house. Oh how coincidental. On a sudden impulse, he rushes outside, letting a cloud of snowflakes rush in, after the reindeer in hot pursuit. The reindeer skids on the sheet of ice glistening in the moonlight; the ice looks less opaque than usual tonight. He dashes onto it but halts with a frown on his lightly-freckled face. Shouldn't the ice be frozen thick?

Before he knows it, the ice is splintering and cracking, forming gaping holes in the now-fractured ice. Fred hollers and frantically waves his arms around as he struggles to find a way back onto the ground without falling into the icy water. Suddenly, the patch of ice he's on gives way, pulling him under into the icy water.

He emerges after a few seconds, filling the wintry night with yells of alarm. Crawling onto the snow-covered ground, he collapses, gasping for air. The reindeer is long gone, scared off by his deafening shouts. It's a wonder his family and the neighbourhood still haven't woken up yet.

Oh, the craziness that occurs when dreams become reality. With Fred Weasley around, it's always a wild, unpredictable Christmas.

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><p><strong>AN: Um, yeah, that was a bit crazy, wasn't it? Well, that's the end of this collection, mates. Hope you enjoyed all of them! xx**

**Please don't favourite without reviewing! =)**

**-Nic.**


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